Boy Scouts on Motorcycles eBook

“By the way,” said the consul, “where
are the papers you took from the captain of the Shark—­the
boat you fought with your submarine?”

“I have them here,” was the reply.

“Better leave them in my safe.”

Ned consented to this, and later, on the march to
Peking, he was very glad that he had done.

At twilight the boys joined the flying squadron, and
were all off for the imperial city, little suspecting
that the perils before them were greater than any
they had encountered.

CHAPTER XVI

A BIT OF SEALING WAX

The night grew clearer as the flying squadron advanced
toward the imperial city of China. The roads
were rough in places, but the superb machines carried
the boys and their companions at good speed.

It may well be imagined that the party created something
of a sensation as it whirled along. The constant
popping of the engines, the strong lights which flashed
ahead, and the voices of the marines brought many a
sleepy-faced Chinaman to the door of his home.

Now and then the boys were hailed from the roadside,
but little attention was paid to these calls.
Finally, however, a voice addressed the party in
English.

“Where are you going?” it asked.

Ned instructed the Captain to proceed a few paces
with his company and then halted to see what manner
of man it was that spoke to him in that tongue.
He found an old Chinaman, a wise-looking old fellow
with a keen face, leaning over a rude gate in front
of a small house.

“Did you speak?” he asked, advancing to
the gate.

“I did,” was the reply. “I
was curious to know where you were going in the middle
of the night.”

“You speak English remarkably well,” Ned
said, not in any hurry to satisfy the old fellow’s
curiosity.

“I ought to,” was the reply. “I
have just come back from New York. I owned a
laundry there for a good many years.”

“And have returned to China to live in peace
and comfort?”

“I don’t know about the peace,”
replied the Chinaman, with a sigh.

“You think there will be a war?”

The Chinaman nodded.

“The coming revolt,” he declared, “was
conceived more than two hundred years ago. For
fifty years organization has been going on. For
six years the revolutionists have been working as
a whole.”

“And they are strong?” asked Ned.

“Wherever in the world Chinamen live, in New
York, Chicago, San Francisco, Boston, London, Berlin,
St. Petersburg, anywhere, everywhere, there are funds
being collected for the coming civil war.”

Ned wanted to ask the loquacious old fellow what his
private ideas about the justice of the struggle were,
but he decided not to do so. He thought he might
find out in another way.

“And the revolutionists will win?” he
asked.

“God forbid!” was the reply, and the boy
had the answer he thought he would receive.